


Silence VS

by WondersWhy



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, DC Cinematic Universe, DCU, Justice League (2017)
Genre: Ancient magic, Black Character(s), Blood, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Car Chases, Empath, Evil Cult, Female Character of Color, Female Protagonist, Gen, Gordon Can't Catch A Break, Hospitalization, Hostage Situations, Kidnapping, Male-Female Friendship, Minor Violence, No Romance, POV Female Character, Post-Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice, Protective Bruce Wayne, Saving the World, Silent Protagonist, Talk Shows, Terrible Daytime TV, Wayne Manor, wendigo - cryptid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-03-04 14:18:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13366485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WondersWhy/pseuds/WondersWhy
Summary: An ancient vault can be opened for the first time in 1,000 years. Inside is the means for someone to take over the world or destroy it. The key to the vault is Kiana's voice. To keep the vault's power from falling into the wrong hands she must stay completely silent, no matter what.Author's Note: I've changed the title from Silent to Silence VS. Sorry if I confused anyone.





	1. Kiana Wilson vs. Joseph Deacon

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! This is my first venture into fanfic! I've written books before, but none that are published yet. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I did writing it, but please let me know what you think. Thanks! :)
> 
> P.S. I promise Batman shows up a few chapters in.
> 
> P.P.S. Since this chapter is so short I'm posting two today. The third chapter should go up in a week, maybe less.
> 
> P.P.P.S. Happy Reading!

The pounding stopped. Pain pulsed across Kiana’s body and seeped out of every cut, coating her with a hot stickiness and smearing gore over every surface she touched.

“You had enough yet?” Deacon’s deep voice hovered over her head. It warped and wavered – a disembodied spirit stuck somewhere to the ceiling high above.

Kiana had been done hours ago. It had been hours hadn’t it? Or days. Time was bent around each labored breath. It could have been eternity. Was there a time before? There certainly wouldn’t be a time after.

A kick in the stomach stopped her thoughts and her breathing. She spit up blood trying to clear her airway.

“I asked you a question Ki.”

Kiana didn’t remember the question. Kiana didn’t remember anything but pain. Pain and the fact that she could not say one word to the asshole standing over her.

“I said, you had enough?”

She shifted so her face was pointing in the general direction of the foot that hit her last and shook her head.

“Listen you little piece of shit. You are not getting out of here without giving me access to the vault. Do you understand? You lost. I won. Now open the fucking door!”

Deacon’s voice was farther to the left than Kiana thought. She shifted until the movement sent electric pain from her ribs up her back. When the duller throbbing returned she shook her head again.

A guttural growl was all the warning she was given before strong hands lifted her from the floor by her blood soaked shirt. The movement made her body scream. Broken bones scraped against tattered skin. Bruises called out anew as she moved to stand. Her feet found the floor but were lifted past it.

Inches in front of her was Deacon’s face, like a piece of chiseled midnight. His yellow eyes bled hate into the sliver of air separating them. “I will pull the words from your mouth. I will smash your body to dust. You can’t save yourself. Open the door! Do you hear me?!”

Kiana nodded. His words were all she could hear. Words and shouts. Shouts and bangs. Bangs and shrieks.

Then he was gone and she was falling.

The noise in the room intensified filling the space between her and the ground, surrounding her with a cacophony louder than her body’s internal screams.

At the end of her brief flight was the concrete floor. It stopped everything. All thought. All sound. The world around her faded into blinding agony. Each inch of her cried out as it hit. Still Kiana remained silent.

She would not fail. She would not break. The vault would stay closed.

A numbness crawled up from her feet covering her with blessed oblivion.

Deacon had lost. Death had won.


	2. Kiana Wilson vs. Nurse Cho and Dr. Stevens

Death was not as painless as Kiana had expected. The throbbing continued as she floated through gray mist. Voices passed her on a current of cold air. Saying nothing she could understand and certainly nothing directed at her.

If there had been no time before there was even less now. Seconds, minutes, hours all useless things spinning in endless circles through the emptiness.

She couldn’t move but she didn’t want to. Movement meant life. Life meant more pain. Here at least there was nothing but cold and a pulse. And a breath. And a heaviness. And a darkness.

\- - -

The first time Kiana tried to open her eyes she couldn’t. There was no way of telling if it was because they were swollen shut or bandaged. Her body hurt but not the same way it had before. Unable to see or move without pain, she drifted off into the more familiar realms of sleep.

\- - -

When she woke again, it was light. Sun streamed through a window partly shielded with vertical blinds. Her body was one big bruise, parts of which remained unmovable save for a small wiggle here and there.

Kiana wasn’t dead. She was in a hospital room, wrapped in gauze, like a B-movie mummy. Her throat was dry and her head foggy. A thin tube snaked out of her left arm into a bag of crystalline liquid. Its companions were a family of gray and black cords connecting her to a box that beeped in time with her heart.

There was no indication of how long she’d been there or how she arrived. Nothing in her mind could point her towards a moment where hospitalization had been a necessity. She tried to see through the haze surrounding her recent past, to no avail. The last thing she could remember was being at the vault...

Something moved by the foot of her bed.

The flower-print curtain was pulled back in one swift motion, briefly lifting the silence with the screech of metal on metal. An Asian woman in pink polka dot scrubs walked to the wall by the window and scribbled something on a crowded whiteboard. Satisfied with her work she started around the bed towards the monitors.

“Good Heavens!” the nurse exclaimed when she reached Kiana’s side. “You’re awake!” The startled woman grabbed for something behind Kiana’s head.

Kiana tried to move away, but her body out voted her and she remained comfortably wedged between two pillows.

The excited nurse finished her fiddling and returned her attention to Kiana. “Can you hear me, love?” The woman wrapped her warm hand around Kiana’s stiff fingers. “Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”

Kiana complied. The movement felt refreshing, like stretching after a long nap. She tried to close her other hand but found her right arm in a cast up to the elbow.

A white woman in a long coat appeared. Her hair was dyed an unnatural color brown that clashed with her tortoise shell glasses perched within its curls. The nurse began spouting off numbers at the older woman who nodded in quiet contemplation.

Kiana was already tired of them both. She closed her eyes hoping to return to whatever dream she had awaken from. But it was not to be.

The older woman called out from Kiana’s right, “Can you hear me? Are you awake?” Her voice had a higher pitch, but was less frenzied than the nurse.

Kiana opened her eyes.

“I’m Dr. Abby Stevens. You’re in the hospital. Is there someone we can call to tell you are here? A husband or a boyfriend?”

“Or girlfriend? Or just a friend friend?” the nurse added.

Kiana started to reply.

Out in the hall, a woman’s voice echoed from overhead speakers, “Dr. Christophe to Emergency, please. Dr. Christophe to Emergency.”

Emergency. The word summoned a scream in her head and filled her with a sense of panic so out of place with her current surroundings that it felt like it must belong to someone else. _Don’t speak! Not a single sound. The vault must stay closed!_ The voice was not her own. She was sure it was a memory, but of who she didn’t know.

The rest of the scene materialized with ease. She could picture the dark basement lined with concrete. The worked metal doors that seemed frail and thin, but would not budge no matter who or what tried to open them. The pale yellow of candle light, making shadows dance as people rushed around her. The rust red of-

“I said, can you hear me?” Dr. Stevens leaned in shouting at Kiana’s face. “Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.”

Annoyed Kiana refused the request and nodded instead. There was no reason to yell. She was laying right there.

The doctor smiled. It seemed disingenuous, like she was proud of herself rather than happy Kiana had replied. “You’ve been through quite a lot,” the doctor continued at the same too loud volume. “Do you remember what happened?”

The short answer was no. The longer answer was at that moment Kiana didn’t care. She just wanted the annoying white lady to stop yelling at her so she could go back to sleep. Maybe if she kept still the doctor would take the hint.

“It’s okay if you don’t remember right now. You’ve been asleep for a while. It might take some time for your memories to return.”

Nope. The doctor was not the hint taking type. Kiana went back to ignoring her as best she could. Instead she focused on stretching her body. Some parts moved fine. Others were wrapped tightly or encased in plaster.

The doctor continued on, with the nurse interjecting now and again. It wasn’t until the nurse grabbed her hand that Kiana returned her attention to the women.

“She did it before,” the nurse said. “Squeeze my hand, dear.”

Kiana sighed internally. She squeezed the nurse’s hand as directed.

“See? She can understand.”

The doctor nodded, unimpressed with the reaction. “We’ll keep her on the dose she’s on for now. And I’ll have PT sent up this afternoon. Keep me updated.”

“Of course, Dr. Stevens.”

The doctor returned her attention to Kiana. “You just rest up for now!” she yelled. “I’ll check in again this evening!”

Kiana did nothing in reply. She didn’t like the doctor.

Her refusal to respond didn’t upset the woman, who left without further comment.

The nurse on the other hand went back to her inane chatter. “I’m sure it must be hard waking up and not knowing where you are.” She adjusted the blankets and pillows that had been pushed out of position when Kiana was testing her mobility. “Don’t you worry. We’re going to take good care of you. And now that you’re awake if you need anything you can push the call button. My name is Sarah Cho by the way. So, you can call for me if you want. But just pushing the button will get someone in here right away.”

Blankets adjusted and machines double-checked, Nurse Cho stood at the foot of the bed and smiled. “You just rest now like the doctor said. I’ll wake you when the physical therapist gets here.” She switched off the overhead light. “Bye now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's two chapters down! Hope you enjoyed them! The third chapter should go up in a week, maybe less. Let me know what you think! Thanks! :)
> 
> P.S. I promise Batman shows up a few chapters in.
> 
> P.P.S. Happy Reading!


	3. Kiana Wilson vs. Daytime Television

Nurse Cho became a fixture in Kiana’s days. The cheery woman was there every morning when she woke up and said goodnight every evening before her shift ended. She always knew when Kiana wanted something or was uncomfortable or needed her pain medication adjusted. Having a friendly face around should have made Kiana more comfortable, but it didn’t.

Something about the nurse was wrong. And no matter how reassuring the woman tried to be, how helpful, how encouraging, Kiana refused to open up to her.

The question that began each day was, “Do you want to talk to us this morning?” Kiana wasn’t sure how many times they would ask before they got the hint that she wasn’t going to talk to them. They’d tried to get her to write, brought in a man fluent in sign language, and four different people who tried speaking with her in various foreign languages. But, until Kiana found someone she trusted she wasn’t telling anyone anything.

Her nights were filled with nightmares – bloodbaths at the vault, screams flooding the anti-room, a creature black as midnight stalking her through the catacombs. And still the memories of how she arrived at the hospital eluded her. The most she’d been able to piece together was that they were attacked and someone saved her. There was no way one of the guardians would have abandoned her in a hospital, it had to have been some other person, but no one ever mention who left her in the emergency room.

The mystery came to a head three weeks into her conscious stay, five weeks since she’d arrived.

The fluorescent lights clicked on with a faint hum that singled the dayshift had begun. As always Nurse Cho pulled the curtain back and marked herself on duty in magenta pen on the whiteboard in the corner.

“Good morning my dear! How did you sleep?”

Kiana answered in her head for what seemed like the millionth time, _Terrible, thanks for asking._

The nurse head to the side of the bed, her Scooby-Doo scrubs swishing faintly as she walked. “You’ve got a visitor today,” she said as she took Kiana’s vitals. “But that’ll be after breakfast. Have to keep your strength up! And later you get that arm cast off! Exciting isn’t it?”

For the first time in weeks Kiana wanted to talk. _Who is visiting me? Why are you always so vague about everything!_

Nurse Cho laughed as she wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Kiana’s arm. “Well that’s got you perked up hasn’t it? Not that I blame you. If I couldn’t move my arm I’d be unhappy too.”

It was impressive how someone could understand a person’s physical needs so well and miss every emotional queue thrown at them. Yes, getting the cast off would be wonderful, but the idea that someone was coming to see her, with no indication of who it was had not ‘perked her up’. It was terrifying. She’d been left alone in the cinderblock building for over a month. If someone was coming now, it was not going to be for a pleasant chat or to bring her flowers. _Unless._

Kiana glanced at the end table by the window. Someone did know she was there. Flowers had been arriving once a week since she’d been brought in. They were never labeled but they were always beautiful. This week’s arrangement was white roses, blue larkspur – which Nurse Cho thought were bluebells – pinecones, and greenery in a clear glass vase. Maybe her well-wisher decided it was finally time to make themselves known?

When Kiana looked back, Nurse Cho was gone. She stretched and sat up. The motorized bed groaned as it fought to keep up with Kiana’s quick movements. Between the PT and the excellent care she’d been receiving, her body had gained much of its range of motion back. Maybe they were going to release her soon? Maybe that’s who the visitor was?

She peered around the curtain that was normally returned to its place after every visit. The hallway was empty save for a chart hanging on the opposite wall. Nurse Cho never left without saying anything, or without closing the curtain.

Kiana shifted uncomfortably. No unusual sounds were coming from outside. There was also no indication that Nurse Cho was coming back. She swung her feet over the side of the bed. A sharp pain in her side reminded her that not all of her was back to 100%.

A quick trip to the doorway proved unhelpful. The stocky nurse with the box braids was on the phone and the skinny male nurse with the freckles was typing something on the computer. Kiana would have to wait and see who her mystery visitor was.

Breakfast came and went with no more signs of Nurse Cho or the visitor. Rather than sit and stew, Kiana turned on the television. Morning shows and bad reruns graced all the channels that weren’t showing the news. After flipping through them all twice, she stopped on the roundtable talk show with the group of women that annoyed her the least out of the ones available.

The middle-aged redhead was calling for quiet at the table, while the bubbly blonde and the comedian argued about something or other.

When order was finally restored, Redhead went back to speaking to the camera in the most mid mid-western accent a human could have, “Now we’re going to be talking about the cult crime wave that is plaguing our fair city. So let’s all welcome our next guest, Commissioner of the Gotham City Police Department, James Gordon!”

A tired man with square framed glasses walked on stage to prompted cheers from the crowd. He smiled at the group of women who sat him in the center of the table.

“Welcome to the show, Commissioner!” Redhead exclaimed with more enthusiasm than was appropriate.

“Thank you for having me,” the commissioner replied with much less enthusiasm than was appropriate.

Redhead either didn’t notice, or was too good at her job to let a guest’s response break her practiced routine. “Let’s get right into this: Over the last couple of months there has been a rash of crimes in Gotham City. And at the scenes of these crimes unusual graffiti and things have been found. What can you tell us about that, Commissioner?”

“You can, uh, call me James, and yes that’s correct. About eight weeks ago we saw the first of the Cult Crimes, as the press has been calling them. A man in his early sixties was murdered in his apartment. On the walls were rows of strange symbols and large drawings of geometric shapes.”

The curvy black lady interrupted, “And the police aren’t able to figure out what they say?”

James turned to answer her. “No, uh, we couldn’t even narrow it down to a specific language, time period, or country of origin.”

“But this wasn’t the last incident, was it?” Redhead added, trying to return the conversation to her end of the table.

Kiana wonder why all the women did the show together if they didn’t like letting anyone besides themselves talk. She itched under the rim of her cast. A full range of motion and a shower was going to be amazing.

She returned her attention to the television. The commissioner was pointing to the screen behind the women.

“Four days ago was the latest appearance of the symbol graffiti. But as you can see it’s only half finished.”

Bubble Blonde jumped on the short pause. “Because the Batman caught the criminals!”

The comedian shook her dreadlocked hair in defeat. “Here we go again.”

“What’s that supposed to me?” Bubble asked, making sure everyone in the free world could tell she was offended. “Batman is the greatest hero Gotham has ever had!”

“He’s a vigilante. He breaks laws and interferes with what the police are supposed to be doing. No one should be able to beat people up and then expect everyone to be happy about it.”

“Now, now,” said the southern grandma with the greying hair. “We’re not here to fight about this we-”

“I wasn’t fighting,” came the indignant reply from Bubble. “I was just showing my appreciation for the one person in this city who consistently gets the job done!”

“That is a bunch of baloney and you-”

The comedian was cut off by Redhead, which seemed to be the signal for everyone to shut up. “We’ll get the chance to talk about that in a bit. Right now, I was hoping Commissioner James could tell us more about the latest incident.”

The poor commissioner didn’t look like he wanted to talk about anything. But he straightened in his chair and pointed at the screen behind them once again.

“As I said, the graffiti here was only half finished. The larger geometric symbols were...”

The commissioner’s words faded into the background as the camera finally focused on the crime scene. Some poor woman’s living room was torn apart. All of the furniture was pulled from the walls to make room for the spray-painted writing.

Writing that Kiana had no trouble reading, _The vault will open. The next age will begin. If we need to sacrifice another hundred-thousand souls we will. Only the last guardian can stop the bloodshed. Make yourself known and o...._  The words trailed off.

Kiana’s body went cold. They were still out there and they were looking for her. She had to get out of the hospital.

“Knock, knock!” A hefty man in blue scrubs pushed a canister into the room. “I’m here to take your cast off!”

Kiana tried to bring her heartrate back down to normal levels. This wasn’t her visitor it was just another nurse.

The man had callused hands and skin the color of wet sand. His voice matched his gravelly appearance. “Okay, let me just see your armband. Right. Cool! Let’s get that thing off you now.”

She wasn’t thrilled to let some random nurse near her with an electric saw, but she also didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter. Kiana let him do his job as the television show behind him went to commercials. There were no two ways about it, she had to get out of there, fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put up chapter three early. Hope you enjoyed it! If you did, let me know. If you didn't let me know. I am open to constructive criticism. :)
> 
> P.S. Batman is coming soon, promise!
> 
> P.P.S. Thanks for Reading! :)


	4. Kiana Wilson vs. Gotham General Hospital

Kiana’s cast was the last thing holding her to the hospital. All her other various splints, tubes, and wires had already been removed. And while she would need to have stitches out at some point, and therapy on her arm, there was nothing physical keeping her there.

Most patients weren’t allowed to stay for as many weeks as she had. Normally after a person was no longer in critical condition they were sent home to finish their recovery. Kiana wasn’t sure if it was because she wouldn’t talk or because she’d been in a coma for almost two weeks, but no one had ever even suggested her being released. And since she couldn’t ask, she remained in the dark about Gotham General’s unprecedented charity.

By the time her cast was off, it was almost time for lunch. The floor nurses would be busy caring for patients that needed help eating and the rest of the staff would be reduced as people snuck out for their lunch breaks. If Kiana was going to leave without being noticed now was the best chance she’d get.

Unfortunately, just walking out of the hospital in a dressing gown was not going to work. She needed new clothes first. So, after giving her stiff arm a good wash in the bathroom sink she wandered out into the hall.

The physical therapist had recommended she walk around the floor for at least two hours, three times a day. In her journeys Kiana had managed to find the floor’s break room, two storage closets, and a set of stairs marked “Fire Exit” next to the elevators. Her plan was to see if she could find some extra scrubs and then sneak past the reception desk while they were busy.

When she poked her head through the doorway, Nurse Cho smiled from behind a computer screen. “Don’t go too far, dearie. It’s lunch soon!”

Kiana nodded. The woman had ears like a bat.

“Oh and your visitor called. He said he’s running late, but he’d be here in fifteen minutes or so. Looks like you get to have lunch together!”

Kiana gave the nurse a fake smile and a wave, then walked away as fast as she could without looking suspicious. If her ‘visitor’ was going to be there soon, Kiana had to make sure she was gone before they arrived. She made her way to the storage closet and closed herself in.

The room was lined with metal shelving, and cabinets with too many drawers to count. Everything was meticulously labeled but to her untrained eyes nothing appeared to be in any sort of order. After a few minutes of searching Kiana found what she was looking for. Extra scrubs, for when staff had to change mid-shift due to unfortunate accidents. There were two styles: plain mint green and powder blue with Gotham General Hospital written around the trim in white. She would have preferred the green, but only the blue had a size that fit.

After changing and stuffing her gown into a trashcan, Kiana made her way back to the hallway. The final hurdle of her escape was making it to the stairs.

The elevator bank had a small sitting area framed by a brown carpet with patterns in peach and teal meant to look like palm leaves. It didn’t match anything else on the floor, and Kiana wondered if it had been borrowed from another area of the hospital to save money during a prior renovation, or if someone in charge just had terrible taste in decor.

Only two nurses were manning the main desk and both were busy on their computers. Kiana had hoped for a better distraction, but she didn’t have a lot of time to wait around for one.

She started forward when the two elevators on the opposite wall binged at almost the same time. From the first door poured a large family, mostly dressed in comically puffy winter coats. The matriarch of the group stormed to the reception desk demanding to see her father, the head doctor, and Lord knows who else.

Behind them was an impeccably dressed man and woman who were trying unsuccessfully to speak with the second nurse. The woman had bobbed hair and looked to be either Indian or Hispanic, Kiana couldn’t tell with all the commotion between them.

“If I don’t get some answers right now-” the matriarch yelled. She stopped to wave off the taller puffy-coated man behind her. “Leave off Stan! I’m handing this!”

The well-dressed man stepped back from the chaos and waved over the family’s head trying to draw attention to himself. His skin was the same color as the plastic walnut trim peeling from the edges of the nurses’ station. He also looked familiar, but Kiana couldn’t-

The man turned following the movements of the second nurse. She had seen the couple and decided they looked much easier to help than puffy coat family. The man stepped into the glow of a recessed light, making his bright yellow eyes sparkle.

It was them. The wendigo had found her.

When he turned away, Kiana tore across the waiting room and into the stairwell. Two floors down she stopped and looked to see if anyone was following her. There was no sound above or below her. She leaned against the rough wall. If no one was actively chasing her, easy breathing would make for a better disguise than someone gasping for breath.

The door in front of her opened. Out walked a security guard with an ugly mustache and more stubble than was probably permitted by the dress code. At first Kiana thought he might walk right past her.

The man nodded his head, slightly surprised to find another person in the unused space. “Mornin’.”

Kiana nodded back.

As almost an afterthought he stopped, his back to the descending stairs blocking her escape. “Can I see your ID please, miss?”

Kiana didn’t have an ID, nor did she have anyway to talk herself out of the situation. Instead, she glanced down as if checking to see where it had gone, then pushed the man full force down the staircase.

The surprised guard had no time to react and fell head over heel to the next landing. Kiana rushed down to his side. He was unconscious, but breathing. She laid him flat in a comfortable position, then relieved him of his walkie-talkie, gun, and keycard. A part of her wanted to stay and make sure he was okay, or at the very least let someone know he was there, but there wasn’t time. She had to get out of the hospital.

The stairs brought her to the elevators by the main floor entrance. Here plate glass windows looked out to the circular drive where valet attendants waited to park rich people’s cars and poorer folks dropped off their charges before driving to the garage across the street. Two groups of huddled people stood as far from the door as they could, getting in a smoke break before returning to the warmth of the hospital. Everyone, inside and out, was wearing a coat, hat, gloves, scarves – the works. Wherever she went after this, it was going to be a cold walk.

A wall of tall spikey plants partially shielded her view of the main desk. She stuck the walkie-talkie in the ground cover and adjusted her scrubs in the reflective surface of the elevator doors. Down here Kiana wasn’t as concerned about someone recognizing her, but she waited until all three receptionists were occupied to make her way towards the exit.

Frigid air made its way across the tile floor each time the giant revolving door completed half a cycle. Kiana got a few odd looks from people entering the building, but none of the hospital staff paid her any attention.

As she entered the revolving door, there was a shout from behind her, “Stop! Stop that woman!” The guard from the stairwell limped out from the elevator bank pointing and waving in her general direction.

The door closed behind her, sealing her into the round entryway, where she could only watch as more security guards were called and headed toward her. The glass cylinder moved agonizingly slow. By the time the opening to the outside was large enough to squeeze through, there were people shoving through the swinging doors on either side.

Kiana shot out of the hospital’s entrance. Her slippered feet crunched over the salt encrusted sidewalk, propelling her blindly towards the busy street. The cold stung her face and bit at her arms and legs. Every joint in her body ached, unaccustomed to the frantic movements.

A woman called out from behind, “It’s her! That one! Get her!”

Not _stop_ her, _get_ her. The group of what she thought were smokers on her left came charging in from the side. A quick glance showed a pack of men with yellow eyes running faster than men should run. She swerved to the right without looking and all but knocked over a tall white man in a fancy knee-length jacket as he stepped out of his car.

“Hey! Watch out!” he yelled trying to regain his footing.

The wendigo were directly behind her. There was no way Kiana was going to outrun them now. With no other options, she pulled the gun from her pocket, grabbed the man in the jacket, and shot a round into the air.

Screams erupted all around her. Curious bystanders ducked for cover. Both charging groups of people stopped dead or retreated behind the tiled pillars supporting the entrance overhang. Despite her intention of sneaking quietly out of the hospital, she now had the attention of half the block. Whatever she did next, all eyes were firmly fixed on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are still here, thanks for sticking with me. Lots more to come and now we are getting into the exciting parts. Feel free to leave comments, questions, or whatnot. Hope you enjoyed it and thanks for reading! :)
> 
> P.S. Batman...is coming... :o


	5. Kiana Wilson vs. Robotic Cars and Crosstown Traffic

Kiana stared down the wendigo, her hands shaking from fear and the cold. They were less than ten feet away. She could feel their anger and frustration as sure a she could feel the icy wind through her blue cotton scrubs. If she didn’t get out of there fast, their urge to capture her was going to outweigh any fear of discovery they had left.

A policeman took up position on her right. “Freeze! Drop your weapon!” 

Kiana had the frozen part down, but the hell if she was throwing away her only means of defense, regardless of the cop’s good intentions. Instead she put her prisoner in the line of fire and jabbed the gun into his side. 

Unsurprisingly, the man in the long coat tensed. “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” he cried with both hands in the air. 

Kiana took a step back towards his running car’s open door, pulling her human shield with her. 

“I said freeze!” the cop shouted again. Sirens in the distance signaled the imminent arrival of backup and an even slimmer chance of escape. “Drop your weapon and get on the ground!” 

Kiana’s heart was racing and the cold was numbing her fingers making it hard to hold the gun. They were at the car now. She just needed to figure out how to get her and Long Coat in without either of them getting shot. 

“Please! Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!” Long Coat yelled again. “She’s got a gun! Please, don’t shoot!” 

The cry for mercy surprised Kiana. She had assumed the man was yelling at her, not the cop. Even more surprising was the fact that the officer complied after the first request. White people really did have more sway with the cops. 

Kiana motioned for Long Coat to get in the car. 

The tall man didn’t hesitate. He even slid to the passenger side giving Kiana the driver’s seat. A black girl in scrubs must look a lot more threatening than Kiana had given herself credit for. 

She slammed the door behind her, closing them into a cocoon of warm air and silence. 

“Do you know how to drive stick?” Long Coat’s relaxed question caught her off guard. 

Kiana shook her head. 

“If you press that button and it will switch to automatic.” Either Long Coat didn’t understand how being a hostage worked, or he _really_ wanted to make sure Kiana didn’t mess up his car. 

She complied and put the car in drive, then barreled out of the hospital’s driveway. In the rearview mirror she could see two patrol cars pulling onto the main road, lights flashing. Behind them a black van stopped to pick up the wendigo, who were piling into the vehicle. She swerved down the next side street nearly running over a group of pedestrians. 

“If this ride is going to get bumpy, you should probably put on your seatbelt.” 

This time Kiana turned to Long Coat and put the gun in front of her mouth, like a finger signaling silence. There was nothing about this escape that had gone according to plan. Having to listen to an annoying rich guy, was not something she wanted to add to the list. That said, on the next straightaway she managed to get her seatbelt in place. Ending up mangled and back in the hospital was not the direction she wanted this day to go either. 

Gotham City’s streets were laid out in long blocks, which made traffic terrible and losing a bunch of police cars tricky. Twice during the chase Kiana had to use the sidewalk to get around stopped vehicles. Each time Long Coat would hold his breath. 

She finally managed to get to the front of a cluster of cars and sped forward trying to put distance between her and her pursuers. The light in the intersection ahead of her turned yellow, then red. The black van swerved out from an alley and onto the road behind her. 

“Red light,” Long Coat said gripping the armrests. 

Traffic from either side began flowing into the intersection. 

“Red light,” Long Coat said again, this time with more of an edge. “Red light! Oh, shit.” 

Kiana let out a silent breath as the car’s tires passed the white line. Blaring horns and screeching breaks mixed with the far away sounds of sirens. She dodged around cars and a guy on a bicycle, then barely scraped by a delivery van that veered wildly into oncoming traffic. There was one deafening crash, then another, and another. A quick look through the rearview showed no one following after them. 

A UPS truck was sideways across all lanes of traffic. Two taxis were on the curb. And a man in a bright red hat was already out of his car and screaming at other drivers. 

Kiana drove off the main drag and into one of the burrows. She weaved through a quiet neighborhood heading away from the city center. 

Long Coat had relaxed his grip and his expression. “Pretty good driving for a nurse.”

Kiana still wasn’t sure if his earlier panic was because he feared for the safety of himself or his car. She waved the gun in his general direction. But this time he wasn’t taking the hint. 

“So now that you’ve kidnapped me and stolen my car, would you mind telling me where we’re going?” 

Kiana let out a silent sigh. If they were back in the city proper she could have left him on a corner somewhere, but in this area, he’d probably get mugged, or worse. She was stuck with him for the moment. 

“I’m Bruce, by the way. Bruce Wayne. Of Wayne Enterprises? Though I imagine you knew that already.” 

She didn’t. She also didn’t care. All she wanted to do was get somewhere safe so she could figure out how to get back to the vault and find the other guardians. 

“I can make a call and have however much you want delivered wherever you want it to go.”

It was amazing how arrogant the man was. He couldn’t have been much more annoying if he tried.

“I can even arrange for your safe passage if need be.” 

Kiana shook her head. 

“Aren’t you going to say something? Or is this some kind of intimidation trick?” 

If it was a trick, it certainly wasn’t working. 

A light on the dashboard blinked. He pushed it without hesitating, bringing up a video screen in the center of the dashboard. It showed an old white man in a sweater vest. 

Kiana cocked the gun and waved it between Bruce and the screen. 

The man on the video did not seem concerned, or couldn’t actually see them. “Master Wayne, I thought you were visiting the hospital. Why are you heading out of the city?” 

“I’ve managed to bring the visitor to me Alfred, or she’s managed to bring me to her.” 

Neither of the men seemed concerned with what was going on. To bring the seriousness of the situation back to the forefront, Kiana rammed the cocked gun into Bruce’s head. He tensed and held his breath. 

The shift in mood did not affect Alfred. Whoever he was. “I can see that. I’ll leave you to it then, sir.” The screen switched off. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Bruce said staying as still as possible. “I was kidding before. I know you aren’t a nurse. And I know you aren’t trying to kidnap me. I was on my way to see you when our paths crossed.” 

Kiana pulled the car into an empty lot and behind an overpass support. She turned the engine off, to keep any other incoming calls from interrupting them. Bad neighborhood or not, she needed to lose this guy and quick, whoever he was. 

She uncocked the gun and motioned him out of the car. 

He didn’t move. “I’m the one that’s been sending you flowers. And I had Sarah Cho keep me updated on your condition.” 

Now it was Kiana’s turn to tense up. She knew there was something off about the nurse. Bitch had been spying on her the whole time. The old guy in the video call was tracking them. The wendigo could know where she was at that very moment! Kiana had to get rid of him and then get rid of the car. 

She waved the gun towards the door a second time, pushing him with her free hand so he knew exactly what she wanted. 

“I can help you. You can trust me.” 

 _Nope._ She recocked the gun. Kiana had never killed someone before, but she would if she had to. The vault’s protection was more important than any of her personal moral codes. 

Kiana gave him one last chance, pointing firmly at the door. 

Bruce’s shoulders dropped and he turned away defeated. 

Kiana relaxed her grip. One less thing to worry ab- 

He swung back and grabbed the hand with the gun, pointing it up and away from his head. It went off putting a neat little hole in the luxury car’s ceiling. The sound made Kiana’s ears ring and her heart beat a mile a minute. She wrestled with the larger man, but to no avail. Within seconds, the weapon was in his hands pointing at her chest. 

Oddly, he looked more flustered having her at gunpoint than at any other instance since the hospital. He obviously wasn’t accustomed to using firearms. “Good. Okay. Well, you are just as stubborn as Sarah said.” 

Kiana blindly felt for the door handle, while trying to keep eye contact. The man’s hazel eyes were warm and soft despite his harried appearance. Nothing about him seemed wrong and the only emotion that filled the air between them, was relief. But senses could lie, and she couldn’t chance being wrong. She had to get away. 

He noticed her fumbling with the door and put his free hand on her arm. “Lock engage,” he said to the air. The car complied locking all the doors and tinting the windows. “It’s alright. You don’t have to worry about me. You’re safe.” 

It wasn’t a lie, or at least Bruce believed he was telling the truth. Kiana pulled away from his grip and edged as far from him as she could. 

The video screen on the dash came to life on its own and without the engine powering it. The man in the sweater vest was fiddling with something off screen. “You should head back now, sir. They are expanding the search radius. It won’t be long before they close the bridges. Shall I prepare a light lunch?” 

“That sounds good Alfred. Be home soon.” 

Alfred nodded and the screen went dark once more. 

Bruce stashed the gun in the glove compartment. “If I let you drive, will you go where I tell you to?” 

Kiana shook her head violently. _Hell no!_  

“I didn’t think so.” He pushed a couple buttons on the dash. “Autodrive engage.” 

A robotic woman’s voice sounded from every direction, “Autodrive engaged.” 

The car started on its own and moved out from their hiding spot without prompting. 

Kiana’s mouth dropped open. 

“Take us home, please,” Bruce said settling back into his seat. 

“Destination accepted. Expected time of arrival, 2:17pm.” 

The car pulled onto the road and headed west towards the river. Kiana grabbed the steering wheel and attempted to change directions. It didn’t budge. 

Her thoughts were nothing but panic. 

She tried to open the door, with no success. 

“Easy. It’s okay. You’re okay. I know about the men that attacked you. I know you are protecting something. I’m here-” 

Kiana slammed into his shoulder, trying to reach past him to the glove compartment. He was faster and stronger. With little effort he managed to get ahold of both her hands. 

“Hey! Hey! Calm down!” 

After trying unsuccessfully to pull away, Kiana stopped struggling. There was nothing she could do. 

Bruce gently released her. “I know you’re scared. But I swear you are safe. I’m trying to help you.” 

The self-driving car took the ramp onto the highway, merging without issue into the stream of cars heading towards the bridge. Kiana was trapped. And like it or not, she was heading for New Jersey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have Batman! Well, Bruce Wayne. I'm gonna say that counts. Hope you liked it! More to come! Comments and critiques welcome!
> 
> Happy Reading! :)


	6. Kiana Wilson vs. Minimalist Furniture and Trust Issues

Sitting behind the wheel of a car driving itself was more than a little disconcerting. Doing so in silence while seated next to someone who could kill her if he wanted to, was not a lot better. Bruce had tried to talk with Kiana for part of the ride, but gave up when she wouldn’t give him anything more than a cold shoulder. 

The journey took them from highways to main roads to side roads and then deep into the rolling farmlands and scattered forests of rural middle of nowhere. At first she tried to keep track of the street names and directions the car turned, but by the time they exited onto a private driveway through a set of wrought iron gates, she was lost. After a minute or so, the ornamental pines on either side of them merged seamlessly into a natural forest. The afternoon was overcast and the sky had been spitting snow for half an hour. Riding deeper into the dark woods was not improving her calm or convincing her that Bruce had anything but bad intentions.

That was another annoyance. Despite everything, she still wasn’t getting any negative energy from the man. The worst she’d felt the whole trip was worry and old pain. Nothing that would signal him as someone to be cautious with, and certainly nothing linking him to the wendigo.

They pulled up to a modest structure of straight lines, sharp corners, and clear glass. Kiana had expected something grand, but the modern building was simple and elegant both outside and in. Looking through the floor to ceiling windows showed a still lake on the back side of the house. It was surrounded by old growth trees that towered into the low clouds.

Bruce escorted her to the door where Alfred and his sweater vest greeted them. “Welcome back Master Wayne. Who is your guest?”

“That’s a good question, Alfred. Sarah, from the hospital, called you Jane, didn’t she?” Bruce’s question annoyed her more than it should have. If he’d been spying on her, he should know everything without asking.

When Kiana didn’t reply, Alfred answered instead. “She looks more sophisticated than a Jane, but it will do as a placeholder.” The older man motioned them in.

As she had seen from the outside, the house was sparsely furnished. A desk stood in one corner, a table and chairs in another. Two seating areas filled the rest of the space, one facing a long, low fireplace and the other a dark wood wall that most likely hid the bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom areas. Nothing in the house was there to impress. Everything existed to serve a function and minimize any distraction from the views on every side.

Alfred secured the door and took Bruce’s coat and hat. “Sir, the police called saying you may have been kidnapped. I told them I would let them know if I heard from you. Shall I call them now?”

“Let’s settle in a little first Alfred.”

“Very good, sir.” He motioned to the table which was set for two. “If you’ll have a seat Miss Jane, I’ve prepared a light lunch.”

Alfred held her chair while Kiana sat down. Bruce took the seat across from her. Even without his coat, he was big guy. She folded her hands on the thick glass tabletop to keep them from shaking. After she was situated Alfred head to the kitchen to retrieve their meal.

The room was warm and the fire crackling in the background softened the starkness of the house. A glass of ice water stood at the edge of her place setting. Kiana looked at it suspiciously, then returned her gaze to her hands. Through the table she could see Bruce’s feet. Even his shoes looked expensive. He certainly hadn’t been lying about being rich.

Somehow sitting across from each other in the silent house, for only a few minutes, was even more uncomfortable than the entire ride in from Gotham City center. Kiana stretched her bad arm to distract herself. Every muscle and joint hurt. A cup full of those lovely pain meds Nurse Cho brought her on occasion certainly would have felt good right then.

Alfred returned from the kitchen holding a folding tray and a platter. “Here we are,” he said setting up beside them. “I’ve made up a selection of cheeses, a variety of sandwiches, a garden salad, and if you like we have tea, coffee, and I can also make fresh squeezed juice.”

“I thought you said you were making us a light lunch, Alfred.”

“I thought Miss Jane, might be tried of hospital food and like something a bit more substantial.” He arranged everything on the table within reach and then folded up the tray stand. “Would you like something different to drink, miss?”

Kiana timidly shook her head. The “light lunch” was fancier than anything she’d ever been a party to. She wasn’t even sure what the sandwiches contained. It certainly wasn’t going to be deli slices or pb&j.

Bruce gave her a small smile. “Alfred, could you bring out a bottle of the-”

“I don’t believe now is an appropriate time to be indulging, sir. I’m sure you and Miss Jane have a lot to talk about, all of which will be easier with clear heads.”

Alfred’s comment changed the dynamic in the room in an instant. Bruce’s energy went from relaxed to annoyed, but an annoyance that was familiar in a familial sense. Like a little boy who’d been refused a second helping of dessert by his mother.

The older man, who Kiana assumed was just a servant of some sort, stood unruffled holding the empty tray under one arm. His was calm contagious and his will stronger than the trees whose branches shrouded the house.

Kiana could see Bruce desperately trying to come up with a rebuttal, but Alfred didn’t give him the chance. The older man turned to her with a polite smile. “If you need anything else, miss, just call. In this house, one is always in earshot.” With that he gave a short bow and headed back to the rooms beyond the fireplace wall.

“Thanks, Alfred,” Bruce said in a less than thankful tone, as the other man disappeared from view.

“You are welcome of course, Master Wayne,” Alfred called without looking back.

After her initial apprehension, Kiana enjoyed the varied tastes, textures, and the luxurious flavors of the provided meal. Bruce ate very little and finished in very little time. She would have liked to try more of gourmet provisions, but the larger man watching her made Kiana self-conscious and much less interested in eating.

When she finished Bruce led her to the fireplace. He sat in a chair facing the lake. She took a seat on the couch, sinking into the soft leather.

They sat for a moment, him gazing out at the water, her looking into the warmth of the fire.

“I guess you aren’t going to be the one to get the conversation going, are you?”

Kiana shook her head. Behind him the snow was falling faster covering the gravel drive and sticking to the bark of the trees.

“I think we should start over. My name is Bruce Wayne. Welcome to my home.”

Granted they hadn’t made the best first impressions on each other. But simple reintroductions were not going to get her to talk to him.

“You are a Jane Doe, brought to the hospital by a Good Samaritan over a month ago. According to police reports you were “mugged” and left in a coma for almost two weeks. I was the one who paid for you to stay there and sent you flowers every week. I also bribed Sarah to give me frequent updates on anything vaguely interesting that involved you in anyway.”

She nodded. If she saw Nurse Cho again after this was all over, there was no doubt Kiana would give the woman a piece of her mind.

“And when you woke up you couldn’t, or perhaps, wouldn’t communicate with anyone save for an occasional nod or shake of the head.”

That got a cold look from Kiana, who went back to watching the fire.

“No one else knew you were there, until some inane blogger dating one of the nurses, found out there was an unknown woman on the floor who woke from a coma with no memory or ability to speak. He thought it was a great story and posted it on his site and linked it on every social media platform he could.”

Kiana tilted her head. She hadn’t heard anyone talking about her. Two of the female nurses in her ward were married. Sarah was either a recluse or a robot and never mentioned anything outside what happened in the hospital. Maybe it was the male nurse with the freckles? Now and then she’d seen him snuggling with the Latino guy that brought up the fresh bedding.

“When I found out, I knew I had to come and get you. If anyone was looking for you, all they’d need was a floor and room number and you would be done.”

That explained how the wendigo had found her. It did not, however, explain why some random rich guy had decided to take such an interest in her or how he knew that anyone was after her in the first place. She considered motioning for some paper so she could question him, but he hadn’t won that right yet.

Bruce pulled out his phone and brought up a gallery of images. “These are the people who are after you, correct?”

He handed it to her and she swiped through a few mugshots. It was definitely the wendigo.

“I have a friend that has been dealing with this group for a while now. And any information I could pass along to him would be great.”

After the mugshots were some pictures of the graffiti she’d seen on the talk show. To get crime scene photos he would have to know someone at the police station. Maybe his friend was Commissioner Gordon? Bruce did seem the type to know people in high places. If so that was two mysteries solved, sort of. The crime scene photos ended.

Past them were shots of a gray room that had been shot to hell. Kiana recognized it as the vault’s main antechamber. She also recognized the bodies sprawled on the floor.

Kiana covered her mouth with her free hand in an attempt to hold in her rising emotions.

“What’s wrong?”

Buddies with the commissioner or no, no one but the guardians and the wendigo knew about the vault. And the guardians would never let a non-initiate know its location. And they certainly wouldn’t take pictures of the dead guardians still soaking in pools of their own blood. Bruce was lying. He had to be. It was all just a trap to get her to speak!

“Jane?”

Kiana threw the phone at him.

Bruce caught it without trouble, his reflexes proving once again that she was not a match for the much larger man. A quick glance at the screen and his tone changed. “No wait, it’s okay. I have nothing to do with the people that did this. I’m just trying to help.”

She stood from the couch and inched backwards towards the doors leading to the lake.

Bruce followed her, keeping the distance between them from widening. “Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Her leg hit something soft and she chanced a look behind her. Two more leather chairs and a squat round end table stood between her and the exit. She grabbed a heavy glass vase from the table and circled around.

“If you’ll let me finish I can explain everything. The same people that are after you – the ones with the yellow eyes – they are murdering people all over the city. My friend has been fighting them. We are on the same side.”

Kiana was not interested in anything Bruce said. If he knew where the vault was, then he was a threat. She waited for him to sidestep the chairs and threw the vase. As expected he broke eye contact and caught it before it hit him or the floor. She used the distraction to rush to the double doors and make her escape.

Well, that was the plan. The doors were locked. And by the time she managed to open them, he had an arm around her. She kicked at his legs and beat her left elbow into his ribs.

“Wait! I’m not going to – ow! – hurt you! Ow! Stop!”

During the struggle one of her slippers flew off and knocked the desk lamp in the corner to the floor. The resulting crash, along with Bruce’s unheeded requests for mercy, summoned Alfred from the kitchen.

“Oh, I see this is going swimmingly.”

Bruce paused. He lifted Kiana by the waist and spun around, placing himself between her and the doors. When her feet hit the floor he let her go. “I was trying to tell her what happened and she made a run for it,” he said rubbing his side.

Kiana was also uninterested in their banter. Once free she took off towards the other door, rushing past Alfred, who did not move to stop her.

“Where do you think you’re going to run to dressed like that?” Bruce called after her. “With one shoe and no coat? In the snow?”

_Not answering questions. Just getting out._

Unlike the patio doors, this one would not unlock. No matter how hard she tried to turn the knob nothing moved. Kiana banged on the glass in frustration, then spun around expecting to see one of them waiting to grab her again.

Bruce hadn’t moved, much. He was pouring himself a drink from a crystal bottle on the desk, still massaging his ribs. Alfred had returned the lamp to its place and was walking towards Kiana with her slipper in his hand.

He stopped just out of arm’s reach. “I believe this is yours, Miss Jane.” The calm aura Alfred cast before was still there. Now it mixed with sadness like snow blowing through bare tree branches. The feeling balanced out the anger and pain radiating from her host who was still clear across the room.

Kiana took the offered slipper, then nodded thanks without breaking eye contact. She expected him to continue the conversation, but Alfred just returned the gesture and went off to clear the lunch table.

Bruce was drinking whatever alcohol he’d poured and sitting on the edge of the desk, while pointedly ignoring her.

She thought about rushing for the other doors, but Bruce was right. Even with both shoes, she was not getting very far in this weather without freezing to death. Kiana slunk down the icy door and pulled her legs to her chest. Her hands were shaking, her arm was throbbing, and her healing ribs were sore from being lifted in the air.

The events of the day played back in her head: The wendigo chasing her out of the hospital. Bruce kidnapping her in the middle of her escape. Seeing the pictures of Keme and Jamar splattered on the stone floor...

Her tears came as suddenly as the memories. The pictures brought back everything her wounded mind had hidden. Deacon and the wendigo bursting into the antechamber. Screaming, shouting, pain, blood, death.

He’d killed them all. Deacon had killed every one of them to get Kiana to open the vault.

Kiana buried her head in her knees. She wanted to scream. She wanted to curse. She wanted to cry all the pain out of her body. But she couldn’t.

Kiana had to stay silent.

Alfred returned from the kitchen with a new glass of ice water. He bent down on one knee and offered her the drink and a cloth handkerchief.

Kiana accepted only the latter, but Alfred didn’t press the issue. Instead he stood and extended his hand. She dried her face, then allowed the older man to help her up. His skin was warm and lightly calloused, pale with lack of sun and abundance of age.

Soft brown eyes awaited her when she returned to standing. They contained no darkness, only concern.

Psychotic rich guy notwithstanding, there was no doubt in her mind: Alfred could be trusted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this was a bit late. Last week was the worst. :P Will do my best to be on schedule this week! Comments and critiques welcome. Thanks for reading! :)


	7. Kiana Wilson vs. High Tech and Low Wisdom

“I’m sorry if we upset you, Miss Jane,” Alfred said as he walked her back to the couch. “That was never our intention. Please, have a seat. Would you like something warm to drink? I have a lovely white tea that might help settle your nerves.”

Kiana nodded. A cup of tea sounded nice.

“Very good, miss. I shall return posthaste.”

Kiana’s mind was torn between bitter anger and crushing sorrow. She trusted Alfred, who trusted Bruce, which meant she would have to trust him too. But the thought of a rich guy and his butler being able to help her fight the wendigo was laughable. And considering she was now wanted for carjacking and kidnapping, at the very least, the likelihood the police would help her was just as low, regardless of Bruce’s connections.

Bruce had taken a seat in the second sitting area, where Kiana could see him clearly. His energy was now more frustrated than angry. What little anger was still present was a deep, long-burning flame of self-degradation.

When he saw her look in his direction, he put his half-full glass on the coffee table. “I’d like to apologize. I never wanted to frighten or upset you. I did not handle the situation – situations – well. I’m sorry.”

Kiana folded the cloth napkin in pleats and waited. In her experience apologies tended to have two parts: the “sorry” part and the “however I had a good reason” part. Especially when men were involved.

But he didn’t continue. Nor did he retrieve his glass from the table. Instead he sat, elbows on knees, gazing through the concrete floor and into whatever conflict was being fought within him.

Alfred returned and set up a small silver tray just outside the sitting area. After pouring the tea he presented it to Kiana. The wide shallow cup had no handle and was glossy smooth. She inhaled the light aroma. Whether it was a placebo effect or not, the scent alone was already starting to relax her.

“Master Wayne? Will you be joining us?”

Bruce hesitated, then returned to his original seat facing the water. Alfred handed him a cup as well. “Thank you, Alfred.”

“You’re welcome, sir.” The older man took a cup himself and stood in front of the fireplace facing them.

Bruce started to drink his tea, then stopped. “Sit down Alfred. I think we are past formalities at this point.”

“Of course, Master Wayne.” Once he was seated, Alfred took a sip of his tea.

Kiana followed suit. It was airy and bright, like a spring day. The hot liquid slipped down her throat warming her all the way to her center. The three sat in restful silence warmed by fire and tea, while outside the world transformed from dead and barren to brilliant white. Before Kiana knew it, the delicious beverage was gone and her cup was empty. She was never going to be able to drink Lipton again.

Alfred stood and collected their cups and returned them to the tray. “There. Don’t we all feel better now?”

This time Bruce’s thanks were sincere. “Yes. Much. Thank you.”

When the butler went back to the kitchen, Bruce returned his attention to Kiana. “I’d like to tell you my side of the story now.”

Kiana nodded.

“As I said earlier, my friend has been fighting these people with the yellow eyes for months now. A handful have ended up in police custody, but none of them have spoken a word about who they are or what the rituals they keep performing are. Not in any language we know anyway.”

Not a big surprise. Captured wendigo were more likely to go feral and lose their language altogether than tell anyone about their leader or their mission.

“Then a week or so before you turned up at the hospital, we had a breakthrough. We got one of the cultists to agree to take us to their leader if we granted them mercy.”

Kiana shook her head in surprise. Wendigo didn’t switch sides. They couldn’t. Their souls belonged to Deacon.

Bruce noticed her confusion. “Yeah, he was lying. It was a trap to get my friend killed. But we expected as much. My friend didn’t go alone. He brought his own friend, and they were able to break up a ceremony going on deep under the city.”

The shouting and gunfire right before she passed out. It must have been an attack on the wendigo. That explained why Deacon dropped her. And how she ended up in the hospital.

“A lot of them escaped though. And since then, their numbers seem to have increased. Or at least their activity has. There have been at least two to three murders a week related to the cult since then. We can’t figure out a pattern. We can’t figure out a motive. We can’t even figure out who or what they are. But you. You know them. Don’t you?”

Bruce had no idea what his friend was dealing with. She doubted his friend knew either. This was not a crazy cult or a gang war. This was deep magic. And not something Kiana was going to be able to explain to a non-initiate, especially to some sheltered rich guy. Not without sounding completely insane. But if his friend had been to the vault, maybe she could explain it to him?

For the first time since the attack, Kiana signaled for a something to write with.

Her host all but jumped from his chair to retrieve a notepad from the desk. “Thank you,” he said pulling the coffee table toward her so she had a surface to write on. “Anything you can tell me I can pass on to my friend right away.”

Kiana gripped the fancy pen not sure even where to begin. “ _My name is Kiana Wilson. And I appreciate you trying to help, but I need to speak with your friend directly. This is more complicated than you imagine and I don’t want any more people getting hurt._ ”

That was obviously not the answer Bruce had wanted, but he held his disappointment in check like a champ. “I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible. My friend isn’t the meeting people type. You don’t have to worry about me. I can handle myself.”

She shook her head. “ _I’m sorry. I’ll talk to your friend or no one. There isn’t time to play telephone. I either need help right away, or I need to go back on my own._ ”

Alfred returned from the kitchen and smiled when he saw Kiana and Bruce leaning over the table together. “Good to see you’ve decided to play nice with each other.”

Kiana scribbled out a quick note and held it up to Alfred. “ _I’m Kiana Wilson. Thank you for everything, but I need to speak with Bruce’s friend. It’s very important._ ”

“That is a beautiful name and it suits you. Which friend are you referring too?”

“My friend who took all the pictures, Alfred.” Tension bubbled from Bruce in all directions. There was something important he was not telling her. “And I already told her she can’t-”

There was a buzzing noise from the desk.

“Oh dear.” Alfred walked to the desk and slid open a panel on its surface. “Sir, it appears Commissioner Gordon decided he was through waiting. There are three police cars at the main gate.”

“Great. Perfect. That’s exactly what we need.”

Kiana eyes darted around the room. There was nowhere for her to go. “ _They can’t find me. I have to-_ ”

Bruce put his hand on hers stopping her pen mid-word. “You’re safe with us. Remember that.”

The panel buzzed again. This time Alfred pressed some buttons. “Can I help you?”

“This is GCPD we are here with Commissioner Gordon to investigate Bruce Wayne’s kidnapping.”

“Do you have a warrant, sir?”

“Yes we do, and if you don’t let us-”

Bruce yelled from the couch startling Kiana, “Oh for heaven’s sakes, Alfred let them in already!”

“Of course, sir.” There was a harsh beeping noise and Alfred returned his attention to the panel. “Please mind the snow on your way in. It gets slippery at the corners.”

The policemen either didn’t respond or Alfred cut the line before they could. He walked back to the sitting area as Kiana furiously scribbled on her pad of paper. But her words were left unseen.

Alfred offered her his arm – a pillar of calm in a cloud of confusion. “If you’ll come with me Miss Wilson, we’ll find you a safe place to stay until this has blown over.” Bruce started to object but was cut off. “You should make yourself a little less presentable, sir. I’m certain being kidnapped leaves one slightly more disheveled than you are currently.”

A grumble and a nod were all the response they received before Bruce sulked off to the kitchen. Kiana stood, still gripping her pen and pad.

“This way please.”

She let Alfred escort her through a doorway past the second seating area. The entire back of the house was the master suite. It too was sparsely furnished with not much more than a bed and set of nightstands, but she didn’t have a lot of time to look around. Instead she was ushered into a sizable walk-in closet. Apparently, their grandiose plan was for her to hide behind Bruce’s suit pants.

“You’ll be safe in here. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He paused. Despite everything he’d said, Alfred was not completely comfortable leaving her there alone. His pillar of calm had developed a hairline crack, though when he spoke again only Kiana’s extra senses could see it. “And please, don’t touch anything.”

The butler closed the door leaving her in darkness. She tested the latch, which opened smoothly. There was no lock on the handle or around its edges. Alfred must have been assuming the police weren’t going to use that warrant they said they had. After resealing the door, she leaned her ear against the smooth wood, straining to hear anything from the rooms beyond. Nothing. It was surprisingly soundproof for a closet.

After a few minutes of standing in total darkness, Kiana cracked the door open again. Men’s voices floated to the back of the house. Bruce and who Kiana assumed was the commissioner were talking with grave concern in their voices.

It was frustratingly hard to hear what was being said. Kiana contemplated sneaking out of the closet so she could hear better, but decided that was likely to cause more trouble than not. The conversation went on long enough that her legs started to get tired. Her body was still in recovery mode and today had pushed her to her limit. She gingerly slid down the wall and curled her sore arms around her legs.

Her eyes closed and even on the hard floor, Kiana started to drift off. A harsh ringing brought her back to attention. It took her a moment to realize the sound was a cell phone. The conversation from the living area went from back and forth to one sided.

Someone had called Commissioner Gordon. “…Another one? I wish … surprised. …Two? Like in two different places?? Damn it!” On top of only hearing one side of the conversation Kiana was only get every few words. “All right … leaving now. Yeah … here … worry about tonight. Right. Thanks.”

He sounded more tired in real life than he had on the morning show. Kiana didn’t envy the man his job. The call had ended, but there was still people talking. They were quieter now though and she couldn’t make anything they said out.

The pressure in the room changed pulling the door open a few inches wider. Someone had left the building.

Kiana stood up with a stretch. With the police gone she could go back to getting more information on Bruce’s mysterious friend. Then the voices resumed. Bruce and Alfred weren’t alone. There was still someone there.

Footsteps started towards her hiding place. Kiana panicked and closed the door. In the few moments of semi-light she had inspected the small room. The only place to hide was behind the island of drawers in the center of the room. And that would only work if no one actually searched the room.

She felt more than heard the footsteps continue into the bedroom. She positioned herself behind the cabinet with her back to the door and her feet resting in a cubby of wool suit jackets. Through the soundproof door Kiana could just make out two sets of voices. One was definitely Alfred and the other was definitely not Bruce.

Alfred’s voice got close enough that she could just make out words. “Yes, there is another door to the bath through there.”

Someone asked something. Their voice was very practical and tired? Nervous? Annoyed? Kiana couldn’t tell.

“In the master bedroom? The only other exits are the lower windows. This is the walk-in closet.”

The second voice was closer now, but still too distant to understand. The man was definitely not nervous. Worn out would have been a better description.

What worried Kiana was the edge in Alfred’s voice. “There is one on the left and another. Yes, right there.”

There was a subtle click from somewhere inside the closet. Kiana pulled her feet into her chest, making herself as small a target as she could, waiting for light to pour in from the bedroom. In the pitch confines of the posh space Kiana felt something stir in front of her. At first she thought she’d knocked something over and ignored it in favor of listening for movement from the next room. It wasn’t until a soft glow began to outline the cabinet where her feet had been that she returned her attention to the coats.

The built-in cabinet sank into the floor revealing an empty space lit from above by a LED lights. The walls inside were designed to absorb sound, which would make it either a good hiding place or good prison cell. A waist-high metal railing circled all but the wall with the door. The floor was metal too – a massive grate concealing only darkness beneath it. Kiana tried not to think about what an old rich dude would do with a soundproof room made for ease of cleaning.

The second voice was close to the door now. “That’s the last place to inspect. Then I’ll do a perimeter check and let you gentlemen turn in for the night.”

“I’m certain there is no way someone could get into the house from the closet. It only has one door.”

Well that was a lie. Alfred’s warning not to touch anything caused her only a moment’s hesitation before she crawled into the weird space.

“I just want to be safe. If anything happens when I leave, it’s my ass on the line.”

The door began to slide close as silently as falling snow.

“Of course, if you think it’s necessary. Just please, don’t touch anything. I just finished dusting this morning. Right this-”

The hidden door to the weird room sealed shut. All sound from the closet was gone, but thankfully the lights stayed on. A panel on one wall ended part of the mystery. It wasn’t a room. It was an elevator.

She pressed her ear against the closed wall. Nothing. Not even a whisper. Whoever designed the elevator to be soundproof had done and amazing job. Mostly likely this is what had prompted the “don’t touch anything” line from Alfred earlier. What could Bruce possibly be into that warranted this much secrecy? And that made Alfred so nervous?

Kiana’s ability to read people and understand where she stood during any encounter had been invaluable in her continued survival. Her curiosity, however, only had about a fifty/fifty success rate. A fact that never seemed to deter her when it should. So rather than wait around for Alfred to let her out, Kiana pushed the button mark B1 and the elevator started down.

The ride was smooth and took her deep into the ground. Far enough that the poured cement from the house transitioned into carved rock. Even if the elevator hadn’t been soundproof, down this deep no one was hearing anyone scream.

When she reached the bottom she was greeted by an empty hall of concrete and glass that led deeper into the half-light. Shackles hung from the walls at even intervals would not have looked one bit out of place. _Please let it not be a sex dungeon._

She head down the corridor trying to make as little noise as possible. Through the windows was a massive natural cave carved from bedrock by the water that swirled beneath multiple suspended platforms. If this was any kind of dungeon it certainly was a high tech one. There were catwalks, waterfalls, workbenches, computer terminals, and what looked like-

Kiana stopped walking and pressed herself against the window. Directly below them was a sleek black vehicle she’d see in blurry pictures and videos many times.

The Batmobile was parked in Bruce Wayne’s basement.

All else was forgotten as she ran down the hallway looking for a way to the lower level. At the end was a workshop full of tech that could have jumped straight from a sci-fi movie. Kiana found a descending staircase quickly made her way to the lower level. Sure enough, at the bottom was the actual Batmobile.

And it wasn’t just parked in Bruce’s basement. This was its garage. It was meant to be there as much as she wasn’t. The circular space surrounding it was lined with tool benches and equipment meant for repairing the car or possibly enabling space flight. The car itself was well cared for save for a layer of day old dirt and scratches that the best body shop in the world would be unable to buff out.

Kiana wondered where its owner was and in the same breath decided getting caught snooping in The Batman’s secret cave was a bad plan. She was in enough trouble already without adding masked vigilantes to the list of people out to get her. Bad place to hide or not, she needed to get back to the closet.

On the other side of the car was an open doorway leading to what looked like the B2 entrance to the elevator. She went down the short steps and immediately regretted her decision.

Flashing lights and a blaring siren almost stopped her heart. The opening behind her closed with a metallic bang and the two story glass wall was shuttered leaving only backlighting from the wall displays holding back the darkness.

Her initial panic subsided and she realized her mistake. Weapon racks lined the walls. Weapon racks, which thanks to the alarm, were now locked down tight. The door at the back of the room was not the elevator. It was locked with a hand scanner and probably held even more things she shouldn’t be looking at.

A set of metal steps led back to the second floor. Kiana tore up the stairs two at a time, hoping that leaving the sensitive area would still the alarm. It didn’t. On the second floor the LED lights that lined the rooms had gone from soft white to gory red. Worst of all the elevator was gone. It wasn’t closed. It just wasn’t there.

With nowhere left to go, Kiana sat shaking at the top of the stairwell waiting for her fate to catch up with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! Sorry about the long wait. Will do my best to update once a week from now on. :)


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